‘I don’t know. It’s one of the awful secrets to getting older. You don’t ever get the answers. Every time I consider myself an adult, I think back five years to when I also thought of myself as an adult. And I’m aghast at how staggeringly blind I was. Maybe what I hold to be true right now will seem just as ignorant when I reflect back on it years from now.’ She arched an eyebrow. ‘If I’m around.’ She examined the flute once more. ‘Maybe that’s all growing up is. Knowing in real time that you don’t know anything.’
